Fifths
by MsMonet
Summary: "This land holds the same amount of magic as is did a thousand years ago. One fifth is drawn upon by humans who have learned to channel it. Two fifths are used by magical births—enchantresses, warlocks, dragons—you name it. The final two fifths are split between Albion—the land—and the gods. That is the usual split." DISCONTINUED
1. Captive

**A/N: This was made on a sudden burst of inspiration, so please let me know if I should continue this, or it will probably die... R &R!**

* * *

"I'm messed up," the girl, barely a proper age and yet the center of all this, admitted. "I've known this for a while, really. Finding out I was a, an… enchantress. It really didn't help at the time." Her eyes glazed slightly, not really looking at anything. "I was… four, was it? Yeah, that sounds about right. I was four when I found out.

"This illness had swept through the livestock, and this horse I loved had gotten the worst of it. I healed him—accidentally—and in one night, he was the strongest and swiftest horse in our village." She chuckled drily. "There was a witch hunt the next day. My neighbor—she had only been there for a week, the same time the illness had been here. You can guess how that went." Suddenly, her gaze sharpened, locking onto the somewhat-horrified expression of the manservant.

"You know how rare it is for an enchantress to be born," she said to him. The others turned to him, but he paid them no heed. "Oh, c'mon, don't ruin my fun! Tell them."

"An—An enchantress is rarer than a w-warlock. B-both are born with magic," he explained to his friend's confused faces, "but warlocks deal with elemental-instinctual magic… enchantresses have emotional-instinctual magic."

"Oh! Yes!" the girl clapped her hands joyously. "Emotional-instinctual! It means I can do magic on and draw magic from emotions. While warlocks can summon storms and typhoons… enchantresses can summon emotions and healings…" She grinned. "I have gotten so good at drawling out the form your emotions take.

"Take Abelard, here." A tall, sturdy man with a long face and brown eyes stepped out of the shadows at the girl's call, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively. "You remember that horse I talked about?" The manservant sucked in a sharp breath, but the others couldn't see… "My magic did more than heal the horse and make him stronger and faster… it made him smarter, too. It opened a link between our minds. I understood him better than I did myself. I understood that he shared my love for him, understood his wish to better protect me from my village. So…" she smiled up at the man, and he smiled back. "…My magic understood, too. I'm a bastard, you know. I grew up without a father, and in recognizing this, my magic made it so that the horse could better protect me. As my father."

"You… you turned a horse into a man…" the king breathed, and the girl snorted.

"I didn't. I was seven at the time, with barely a lick of control over my gifts," she shook her head as Abelard retreated back into the shadows, the distinct sound of a door following shortly. "My magic is older than me, though. It has way more fines for things like this, tempered by the minds of many and touched by spells tenfold. _It_ turned Abelard into a human, dear king, not I."

"How is that possible?" asked a dark-skinned knight.

"Ask your—no. What fun would that be to tell you all _that_ now? No, I'll wait."

The knights and king sighed. Their captor didn't seem to be up to answering—

"To answer your question, Sir Knight," she continued. "This land holds the same amount of magic as is did a thousand years ago. One fifth is drawn upon by humans who have learned to channel it. Two fifths are used by magical births—enchantresses, warlocks, dragons—you name it. The final two fifths are split between Albion—the land—and the gods. That is the usual split."

"The usual split?" the king asked.

"You caught that," she chuckled. "Yes, the usual split. In the past, oh, thirty years, the fifth wielded by sorcerers and the two fifths by magicals had decreased. Dramatically." They all knew the cause. "It remedy this, Albion and the gods decided to channel this 'excess' into a few outlets. Fives to be exact. Two fifths of the excess went to two magical-borne. An enchantress, and a warlock. I guess you've all met both."

She chuckled at her own joke, much to the captives' confusion. The enchantress was no doubt she, but then who was the warlock?

"The next portion, another two-fifths, went to two humans, a druid boy and a seer. My later joke applies again. The next fifth was then split into three. One went to the land, the other to Albion and gods to later become a prophecy, and the final… it went to a babe. It became his core, his being. For the babe was the catalyst of the Purge. The magic, well, it became a lock to the babe's true power, and the warlock I spoke of? Well, now, he became the key."

The silence was filled with awe and wonder, and forgotten was the captive's predicament in wake of the enchanting tale. But not all good things were to last, and in this case, it was shattered by a curse unfit for such a suave talker.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear…" She said darkly as she hopped down from the table she had perched on. "I'll be back tomorrow—with friends. I was just hoping to get to—ah, what's done is done. Bye~!"

Her exit took place in the same spot her foster father's had, leaving the captured men to bathe in the dank sounds of the dungeon. Nothing but the thieving rats and drips of dirty water even scratched the thick-as-stone silence. No-one was brave enough, or foolish enough, to break it themselves, some too deep in thought to notice, while others all to aware. So silence reined until the next creak of the door, not even broken by snores as they all soon fell into a restless sleep.

 **A/N: Review!**


	2. Names

**A/N: Yay! Second post this week! I'm very happy about this!**

 **I'd like to say that the rating is so that I can have a little more freedom while writing this. When (if) this is finished, tell me if it truly deserves this rating or should I bump it down. (but not now!)**

 **(Before I continue farther in writing this, I'd like to say that in this chapter, names will finally be given out. Curse Word's auto correct grammar!)**

 **Without further ado:**

* * *

"Hello!" The girl chirped to her two guests. "I hope my friends treated you well."

"We got your message," the lady said, frowning at the girl's cheerful demeanor. Was this really the person who had sent that letter? "Show me to Arthur."

"Ah-ah-ah!" the girl tutted. She grinned at them disarmingly. "It _just_ so happened that my visit for today has ended. You two both missed my tale, too. Ah well. You two must be tired, no?" She didn't wait for their reply as she skipped off. "Tatiana will show you to your rooms!"

"You—" the lady took a threatening step towards the retreating enchantress. However, a tug on her sleeve stopped her.

"Excuse me, my lady, I will show you to your rooms," a small, bird-like girl said, her voice a sweet chirp. The lady's jaw tightened in anger. Tatiana hurried on. "Please excuse my friend's behavior; she really is a kind soul. It's just… fate has not been kind to her, is all. If you will follow me…?"

Still fuming, the lady and her knight followed Tatiana. Plants overran the small palace, and yet kept meticulously clean by the few servants that darted through secret passages. For some reason, each and every servant she saw reminded the lady of animals. Tatiana, for example, reminded her of a robin, with her ruby hair and twitchy, bird-like movements. Tatiana stopped in front of a set of doors.

"This one is yours, my lady, and this is Sir Knight's." She dipped her head to the two before darting off.

"…My lady," the young knight nodded to his sister of sorts and ducked into his room. It didn't surprise him that his travel bags were already here, placed just at the foot of the bed. However, what did surprise him was the bangle sitting on the desk, a note pinned beneath.

 _A gift from your hostess_

 _-to be introduced_

He frowned at the note, flipping it over to see the back. Nothing. Now, he turned his attention to the bangle. A polished oval jade sat intertwined in the branches of a leafless tree. Sensing no hostile magic, he slipped the too-big bangle onto his wrist. Is eyes widened as it suddenly became warmer, the branches shifting as it tightened. He tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge. He released a shaky breath. How had he missed the enchantment— And then he knew.

The girl must be an enchantress, or at least have one in her staff. Whoever it was, she had to have been powerful. This kind of subtlety required skill.

Hurrying out of his room, he knocked on the lady's door. "My lady—"

The door swung open, and he saw that she too, had received a bangle. She was muttering spells under her breath as she tugged at her bangle furiously. It wasn't long before she let out a curse and stopped.

"I see you have the same problem as I," she said. Her voice was tinged with anger, the knight noticed.

"Yes," he nodded.

Her bangle was composed of two feathers crossed in a lopsided X with a polished onyx in the center.

A timid knock pulled their attention away from the other's bangle. Tatiana stood at the door. "The lady wishes you to join her for dinner."

And like that, the lady's temper cooled to embers. "We would _love_ too, right?"

"Ah, yes…" he said with slight uncertainty. It sometimes unnerved him his 'sister' switched moods from one to another like that.

"I'll take you down, when you are ready," Tatiana bowed and left.

* * *

When they arrived at dinner, they found their hostess chatting easily with a long-faced man with brown eyes.

"Hello," the girl stood in greeting, striding to meet her guests. The man also stood, but remained by his chair. "I'm glad that the two of you have accepted my invitation. Tatiana says that you don't… appreciate my gifts as much as I hoped you would."

"Yes, well," the lady said as the girl led them to their seats, "I find it hard to truly appreciate something when it cannot be removed."

"My apologies, truly," the girl chuckled lightly. "The stones are the center point for the enchantments. You have to channel a bit of your magic into it for it to be removable, like so." She demonstrated with her own bangle, the leaf-shaped bracelet loosening so that she could pull it off. "It is keyed to your magic, so that only you can wear it. It can also be said that the gems each contain magical properties." She pointed to the rainbow-laced white stone on hers. "Opals help one control or channel emotional magic. Onyxes ward against mind effecting spells and words, letting your thoughts be your own. Jade helps to calm spells that would have otherwise failed due to anger."

"That is… very kind of you, ah…" it was now that the lady realized that she did not even know the girl's name.

"Ah! Where are my manners!" The girl's cheeks flushed slightly. "My name is Astrid, and this…" she gestured to the man.

"I am Abelard." His voice was surprisingly high, and wavered slightly as he spoke. "Astrid's foster father."

"Um, it seems that I have forgotten your names," Astrid said awkwardly.

"My name is Morgana," the lady said.

"And I am Mordred," the knight said, following his lady's lead.

"Morgana and Mordred… It's nice to finally be introduced properly." Astrid giggled suddenly. "You know," she said as they began dinner, "There is this _fascinating_ story I think you should hear."

"What ever is it about?" Morgana asked, feeling, for the first time in a while, relaxed.

"Well, did you know that the magic of this land is the exact same amount as it was a thousand years ago…?"

* * *

The food the guards brought them was just like their rations—by no means was it like the lavish things they ate at the palace, but it also wasn't the slop they fed to their own prisoners. In fact, they saw their guards eating the same stuff they were given.

The guard with luminous amber eyes and black tufts of hair sticking up like ears noticed their confusion. "We have no slop to give because everything here is eaten," he explained in a rumbling purr. "And even if we did, it's better used by the hunters. Waste not."

"How do we know it's not poisoned," the king asked.

The cat-like man rolled his eyes, trading his untouched meal for the king's. They were identical. "Again, I say waste not." At this, he bit into the bread roll.

Slowly, the captives began to eat, the servant humming as he did so. The others gave him questioning looks, and he blushed.

"It's all fresh," he explained as he motioned to the meal. "Nothing's stale."

"Good eye, boy," the other guard, a doe-eyed male with blonde hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail, said. "Cook makes only two meals a day, one mid-morning, the other at dusk. She knows the exact amount of people she cooks for, and makes just enough so that no one will be at risk of being brained by her ladle. Nothing is wasted here, as my friend said."

Feeling somewhat brazened by their friendly manor, the manservant pushed on.

"So what are your names?" He asked, ignoring the warning looks from his companions. "Your… friend didn't make it seem as if it matters if we know them."

"Ah, you know, I think she wanted us to give you and your king something," the cat-like man said. "I'm guessing that she means you and not the armored knight here." He and his friend stood. His eyes glowed brighter and the two cells unlocked and swung open.

The king lunged to his feet, arms outstretched to wrap the chain of his shackles around the doe-eyed man's throat. His rebellion was stopped short by one of his knight's cries of "Merlin!".

Faster than he should have, the king whirled to his manservant's cell. The cat-like man held a dagger to the boy's throat, amber eyes glowing in the light of the torch. "I wouldn't." His voice was a sadistic purr. Gone was the friendly man who had chatted with Merlin not minutes ago, replaced by a panther ready to spring. "It'd end very, very badly for you, and then I'll have to explain to the Lady why her guest's throat is slit. Your move, king."

But it wasn't his move. It was the doe-eyed man's. His arms were seized from behind, a plank of wood slid into the gap his elbows made so that the chain was pulled tight over his stomach.

"I think you should do him, first," the doe-eyed man nodded to Merlin.

"I was planning to," the cat-like man rumbled, slipping a shining bangle from his pocket. "I really don't understand her sometimes," he muttered as he slipped it onto Merlin's wrist. The many crystals shimmered as the bangle tightened on his wrist. He pushed Merlin back into his cell, before turning to the king. "The bangles are harmless. The lady wears one herself. So you can ease your worry."

"…" The king glared as his own bangle was placed on his arm, shivering as it shifted to be almost unnoticeable to him.

When he was pushed back into his cell, he spent time examining the bangle. It was made of silver that was polished to mirror-like perfection and yet didn't reflect bright lights, mostly because of magic. The silver was crafted into a dragon shape, the gemstone set in the gap between its tail and jaw. The stone was a polished Tiger's-eye that seemed to give off warm, thought-clearing pulses. It was the center of the enchantments, then. On impulse, he ran his fingers over the stone, and was rewarded with the bangle loosening just enough so that he could remove it safely. He didn't, repeating the motion to tighten it again.

The king sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked. When he looked up, he found his friend peering at him through the bars with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded, still looking at the bangle. "You?"

"Is that worry I hear?" a knight teased. "From the Princess?"

"Shut it, Gwaine," Arthur scolded at the knight.

The mood lifted. The guards were conversing near the door, the occasional laugh from the doe-eyed man being heard. The captives lapsed into a warm silence, their bellies filled for the moment. However, someone had to ask the inevitable.

"So what do we do now?" The dark-skinned knight asked.

"Escape?" Gwaine answered.

"I believe Elyan meant 'how'," a curly-haired knight retorted.

"Leon's right," Arthur sighed. "We need to find a way out of here—without alerting our 'hostess'."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Gwaine challenged.

To that, Arthur had no answer. It was clear that the enchantress had guards that were, he admitted in embarrassment, more competent than his own at the palace. The cat-like one clearly had magic, and despite the jovial, if slightly stiff appearance, he was an experienced fighter. The doe-eyed man was also not one to sneeze at, he thought. The dagger (a dangerous, curved thing the length of a forearm) the cat-like man had used had actually belonged to the doe-eyed man; its twin sitting at the man's other hip. They were warriors, he realized. He had no doubt that if they were to go toe to toe with his palace guards, they would win. And if the enchantress had a whole castle of men like that…?

"I…" he began, but then his manservant interrupted him.

"I think I know a way how," Merlin said, hesitantly, as he peered at the guards. Before Arthur could ask him to share, he called out to them. "You know, you didn't answer my question earlier."

It took the guards a second to register this as they lapsed into silence.

"The name's Leo, kid," the cat-like man said.

"And I am Ayalon," the doe-eyed male stood tall, his height matching that of Percival's.

"Merlin," he grinned. "Nice to meet you."

The two men chuckled.

"And I you."

* * *

 **A/N: And that's a rap! 2046 words in all (not counting the Author's Notes)!**

 **Special thanks to** stormus **for being the first reviewer! I was about 800 words into this chapter when I saw your review, and it inspired me to write the rest of it. Reviews inspire me, guys, so please! If you want more, tell me! I'm notorious for letting story ideas die…**

 **On another note, apologies for any OOC-ness in this chapter, especially by Morgana. I really need to re-watch the series again, but my attention is grabbed by Arrow at the moment and** _ **still**_ **mourning Sherlock ;. ( *hears 'Sherlock is a great show!' in the background*. It truly has been a while since I've seen Merlin, so I'll try my best to work something out!**

 **Review!**


	3. Madness

**A/N: to be honest, I'm surprised at how quickly I'm writing this. Huh.**

 **R &R!**

* * *

Early the next morning, Astrid and her guests were on their way to the dungeons. Much like the rest of the castle, it was over run by plants, in the form of hanging roots, moss, and fungus. Astrid was explaining the rules to them.

"…As long as you don't mess with any of the prisoners, or interrupt my process, we'll be fine, alright?" She paused, looking back at the two with a grin.

"Yes," Morgana agreed.

"Good. I'd also like to say that the use of magic down here is only allowed if I approve," she warned, casting a narrowed glance over her shoulder. "Which I don't, for you two."

Before either of them could reply, Astrid had kicked open the dungeon door.

"I'm back~!" She sang. The two guards stumbled away in surprise. "I hope my prisoners are ready for another history lesson!"

"What history?" Arthur scoffed. "All you told us yesterday were lies and—grrk!"

"Arthur!" Merlin and the knights were at the bars in a flash, eyes glowing with anger. "Let him go!"

Astrid stared calmly into the face of the king, eyes molten as he was lifted to his toes by an invisible noose. "You are in no place to say that, Merlin, was it?"

Scoffing, she turned away from the choking captive. Arthur gasped on the ground, shaking.

"As you can all tell, I am in a foul mood." She shook her head mockingly. "My lady, Sir Knight, come and say hello to you… _friends_. Remember what I said."

Time seemed to slow as the frightful Morgana swept past the enchantress, kneeling before the king's cell to grab the weakened Arthur by the chin.

"Get away from him, witch!" Gwaine snarled.

"Hello, _brother_ ," she hissed, ignoring Gwaine's cry. "It's been a while."

"Not long enough," Arthur spat.

"Mm, yes," The denounced lady stood, turning to her host. "As much as I would like to stay, Camelot is weak now. Without its king, it will fall to my army in no time. Mordred, let's—"

" _No_."

The air shivered and froze at the girl's command, the torches dimming drastically.

"Wh-What?" Morgana asked, shocked.

"Two letters, my dear," the girl crowed as the bolt slid in place one the dungeon door. "N-O. You see, you've only heard a fraction of the story I have to tell!" She flung her arms wide with a manic grin. "There's a reason you are all here! Kindness! Loyalty! Ambition! Strength! Courage! Revenge! Betrayal! _Magic._ I have a story to tell. It's been in my head as long as I've had magic, and its been _waiting_ to escape."

"How dare you—" Morgana doubled as white-hot pain spread through her veins.

"My—" Mordred befell the same fate as he tried to turn his powers on the enchantress.

"Remember dinner?" Astrid giggled at their shocked looks. "I had Cook lace your bread and tea with Primrose Dew. It's amazing how effective it is against magic. Now, either you play nice, or you'll end up in a cell like the rest of—you know what? Get in one anyway."

"Never," Morgana wheezed.

"Like you have a choice," Astrid motioned to Leo and Ayalon. "If you will. You're dismissed after that to do whatever."

"Of course." Ayalon nodded shakily as he and his partner led the former guests to their cells.

"Why are you doing this?" It was Percival, and Astrid nodded to the knight.

"Good question. As I said yesterday, and as you no doubt saw, I am messed up," She held her finger up to forestall the questions that would never come. "It's relevant, I swear. So, you remember the story I told you yesterday? Well, as it turns out, I might have… Lied. A bit. The final tenth of the excess magic wasn't made into a prophecy—that was already done long before by a group of Druid seers. That final tenth was actually divided into the Knights: Calm, Valor, Kindness, Loyalty, Ambition, and Strength. It's sad to find that Valor could not survive up to this point," She sent a mock glare to the seer. "And that Calm is busy at the castle. Oh well."

"You said…" Merlin whispered, face pale at the mention of his magical name in front of his king. "You said that you have a story to tell."

"You're right," Astrid nodded; then froze. "Darn. I went all crazy and most of you still don't know my name. Well now, I'll have to fix that. My name is Astrid. Well," she looked behind her at the dungeon door, "I guess storytelling will have to wait until tomorrow. Baa."

And she was gone, out the supposedly bolted door in a swirl of brown cloaks and reddish-brown hair, nothing but utter and confused silence in her wake.

"What…" Elyan swallowed at having to be the one to break the spell, and plunged on, "just happened?"

No answer came.

* * *

It was hours later that guards returned. However, Ayalon was missing, instead replaced by a brown-haired, green-eyed woman. She cast a sharp, suspicious eye around at the mostly sleeping prisoners; her eyes lingered on the only awake one. Leo sighed at her actions.

"At ease, Reyna," he rumbled. "Why are you always so stiff?"

"I'd rather be stiff if it means that this lot doesn't jump us," she retorted.

"…Reyna, was it?" the lanky, dark-haired boy asked. She glared at him. He flinched slightly, turning to Leo instead. "Leo, where's Ayalon?"

"Why should we—"

"The lady spooked him earlier," Leo interrupted coolly. "She decided to place the stiff here on guard instead."

The lanky boy made an understanding sound. Reyna glared at her companion. "We shouldn't be talking to the prisoners," she hissed.

"Why not?" Leo shrugged, leaning back on the dungeon wall. "It's been a while since anything interesting happened and these guys—"

"Losing Freya to that monster was interesting?" she snarled, turning away in disgust.

Leo's wild hair flattened, and he looked away, ashamed. "I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"That doesn't mean I forgive you." Reyna stalked off to the other end of the dungeons.

"Did—Did she say Freya?" Merlin asked into the silence.

Leo perked up a bit. "You know her?"

"…" Merlin looked around at his sleeping friends. "Knew."

"Oh," Leo sighed.

Leo looked after the still-fuming Reyna, eyes narrowing minutely.

Merlin waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Yawning, he settled down to sleep. It was no use pursuing something that would turn back to bite him, after all.

* * *

Madness woke with a blood-chilling scream. She whimpered, flailing at invisible ghosts and fleeting lights. Her struggles saw her off the bed and into a corner, curling as tight as she could while still tangled in her sheets, hands clutching her head.

"No…" she whimpered. "No… I… No—!"

She collapsed into a sobbing mess. And then… she giggled. It was a small sound at first, escalating into a pitchy din that echoed around the room.

"Tomorrow, then," Madness giggled, standing to return to bed. "Tomorrow…"

* * *

The kitchens were just beginning to awaken when Astrid walked in. Stopping briefly, she inhaled the scents of herbs and baking bread. While the calmness was welcoming, she knew that if she was to get anything done for the day, she had to start as early as possible. Astrid called over Cook, a sturdy, tall woman who always had her graying red hair in a severe bun.

"Yeah?" she asked, always one to get to the point rather than beating around the bush. In her opinion, it wasted time that could better be spent doing something she actually liked. "What is it?"

Astrid smiled faintly. "I need rations for a week-long hunting trip," she explained. "Just enough for me, Leo and Tatiana."

"And what of the prisoners?" Cook asked as she went to go retrieve the rations. "Not going to do anything with them?"

"Mm, no," Astrid shook her head. "I need to plan everything out first before I do anything, and I think that this hunting trip just might do the trick."

Cook stopped, sending a suspicious eye at the girl. "Where are you really going?"

"Camelot," Astrid said lowly. "I need to see if the king's disappearance has done anything major."

"And if it has?"

Astrid winced. "Then expect for there to be a move."

There was nothing be the sounds of the kitchen as Cook prepared the rations.

"Be careful," Cook said as she handing over three bundles of dried food. "There's enough for seven days, no more, no less."

"I will," the girl assured as she took the bundles.

* * *

Gwen paced. Somewhere in the back of her head she chuckled at the act, finding it ironic that it was her husband that usually did it while she watched on placidly. She had always been good at that—staying calm. Even now, she felt perfectly at ease as she paced. Calmness washed over her, easing her worries slightly and sharpening her thoughts. But she was still worried.

The why's and who's and when's where simple: Arthur and his knights had disappeared from patrol three nights ago. But the how? _That_ was what bothered her so. It was understandable for him, really, to disappear suddenly, but without a trace to even a little scuffle…?

Oh, how the queen worried. But like before, it was dulled by calmness and clarity. _She_ was the ruling power, now. It would cause panic within the city for even the Nobles to see the worry in her eyes. No, she had to remain calm.

A timid knock sounded at her door, and her maid, Rachel, entered. "The counsel it waiting for you, milady…"

Gwen sighed. Life did not stop when disasters such as these struck. No, it plowed on; only pushing harder the more you wished it to stop. So Queen Guinevere of Camelot smiled at the timid girl, voicing a thank you as Rachel helped her prepare. It wouldn't do to keep the counsel waiting.

Afterwards, it was decided that, other than the doubled security and patrols, life would run on as normal in the city. Gwen sighed once more as she made her way to Gaius's quarters. She was glad that Arthur and her had been talking about disbanding his father's counsel. Really, the opinions of those men were only those of only self-respecting men that only sought to better themselves.

"Any news of them?" Gaius asked as she entered. She smiled tiredly.

"I'm afraid not, Gaius," She said sadly. "No sign of Arthur, or Merlin, or Gwaine, or…" The calmness broke under the stress of her worry, and Gwen sat heavily upon one of the benches, crying. "Oh, Gaius! I'm just so worried! What if their all—!" She stopped short, new tears bursting forth to spill over her hands, and the final word hung in the air between them.

 _Dead._

"My dear girl…" Gaius pulled the former maid into a hug, whispering soothing words into her ear until she calmed. "As long as we hold out hope, they still live."

"How can you be so sure?" Gwen sniffled.

"Because there is no other choice."

* * *

 **A/N: So you have a quick look as to what Astrid will see back in Camelot. Yay. Review?**


	4. Riddle

**A/N: I officially have a semblance of a plot! Yeah!**

 **The reason I took so long with this is that I really haven't felt the inspiration up until now. So, um, yeah.**

* * *

Astrid walked the mossy steps down to the dungeon, lost in her thoughts. Originally, Tatiana was supposed to come down here alone, but the plan was scrapped when she remembered the little bird's claustrophobia. It was stupid of her to forget her friend's fear, a point she spent an hour berating herself on. _Stupid, stupid, stu—_

 _ **Thunk!**_

Astrid lay in a crumpled heap, clutching at her nose and ankle. "Ow… Damn, this hurts…"

"My lady!" Reyna's surprised and somewhat horrified call made her lift her head. "Are you okay?"

"Does it…" the girl stood with Reyna's help, "look like I'm alright?"

Leo snorted from behind the human. "This is the third time this month."

"The downside of being all-powerful…" she muttered. Reyna shot a heated glare at the man. _If looks could kill… I should have put Rai on duty instead._

She limped over to the guard's table, still clutching at her nose. Reyna hovered slightly, face pinched in worry.

"My lady, you're bleeding!" She cried, face white as a sheet.

"I am?" It was then that she felt the warm trickle. "Oh. Reyna, go check on the prisoners, now, if you will."

The woman nodded, hesitated and went to follow Astrid's order.

"So," Leo began, watching as the enchantress tilted her head back and pinch her nose, "Is there a reason you came down here?"

"Yes. I wanted to bring you and Tatiana on a 'hunting trip' with me."

"Where to?"

Astrid hesitated slightly. "Camelot."

* * *

Two days later saw the trio approaching the citadel, one of Camelot's knights escorting them. They had been intercepted by a patrol hours earlier, and one of the knights had branched off to escort the 'lady' to the castle.

And, of course, they parted with the man as soon as they reached the gates. Astrid snorted. Was Camelot's security really this lax? Apparently so.

The inn that Leo had found them was one of the more luxurious (and expensive) places, and Astrid fought down a glare towards _the cat-tongued fool. Well, at least that tongue had halved the price. Shut up._

She and Tatiana would share a room, and Leo took the one just across the hall. Both to either side were taken, and even though the knight hated the fact that his longtime friends were practically closed in by strangers, he knew that they would at least be (somewhat) safe. A day passed, and Astrid found herself out on the streets of Camelot.

Astrid hummed as she walked through the throng of the market, kindly declining offers of wares, snorting at the attempts of thieves as they tried to steal from empty pockets, and allowed her mind to wander. At least, up until the point that her body wandered strait into something.

 _Someone,_ she amended, laughing lightly as she brushed off the man's attempt to help her up.

"Honestly! I may be female, but I'm not incompetent!" Astrid laughed.

"My apologies, my lady, I did not mean to offend." The man—elder, really—said coolly. She studied him, magic feeling the hidden worry and faded magical aura around the elder. And then her eyes landed on his satchel.

"Oh!" She said, a look of impish joy making the man shift in slight discomfort. "You must be the court physician! I've something to give to you—I just hope you like it."

She started to shuffle around her belt purse. "Oh, I know you'll get the meaning behind it, so what fun is it to tell you _that_? Here it is!" Astrid held out a sooty black and greyish white striped feather to the physician. He took it silently, one eyebrow raised in confusion. "If you must know, it's a _merlin_ feather, a male one at that."

A sudden horror took over his features, sharp eyes raising to stare at her. Astrid giggled manically. Around them, time slowed.

"Now, you _must_ be wondering why a little lady like me even has the feather of a surprisingly _powerful_ little falcon? Oh, that's a simple enough question to answer, but what fun is answering _that_?" She giggled slightly at the repetition of earlier. "No, I'll just give you a little riddle to solve."

Astrid hummed as she thought, the man before her as frozen as the people around them.

" _Find Betrayal in the fallen king._

 _Find Revenge_ _in the golden dragon._

 _Find Calm in the lady's home._

 _Find Ambition in the forging hammer._

 _Find Loyalty in the knighting sword._

 _Find Kindness in the frozen death._

 _Find Valor in the slaying road._

 _Find Strength in the forsaken blessing._

 _Find Courage in the guiding light._

 _Find Magic in the tearful lake._

 _Find us all, and sought in order_

 _Found is Madness' final note."_

Astrid paused, here manically odd grey-light-grey-grey eyes taking in the horror on the elder's wrinkled face. He knew that she had the missing knights, the king and the king's manservant. He knew, and he would most defiantly go on to tell her majesty. Astrid smiled, a thoughtful one that revealed a certain bit of sympathy.

"I will tell you this: they were all perfectly fine when I left them, and I plan to keep it that way." She grinned when she saw the horror soften into relief at her sincere words and continued. "Now, I've cast a spell on that feather, one that'll allow you to remember everything that has been said in this conversation. I don't doubt you will disappoint."

And with that, time returned, and the coppery head of the girl vanished.

.

Astrid and her envoy left later the next day, all under an enchantment that willed their appearances to change. When they were a safe distance away from the city, the young female turned to Leo.

"I told Cook we were out on a hunting trip, and we all know how she gets when I mislead her." They both took the time to shudder. Last time Astrid did so, Cook had laced every meal with diluted Primrose Dew, making all the magic-users' magic unreachable. Thankfully, it was diluted, so they felt no pain when they reached for it. Un-thankfully was the fact that Cook was also a master at mixing potions, and so diluted the Primrose Dew with a tickling tonic. Needless to say, it was not a fun experience for any of the magic-users, and utterly hilarious to the normal ones. Tatiana giggled at the memory.

"Right. The usual?" Leo asked slyly.

"You know it. Actually, add a bit a mangy cat on the list too." Astrid ducked the stipe at her head, laughing. "Tatiana and I will set up camp at the lake. Now shoo!"

Leo hissed at her, offended, and set off into the brush.

"You're going to find nettles in your pillow, Astrid," Tatiana warned lightly.

"Oh, he knows how I jest." Astrid paused, thinking. "I hope."

Tatiana twittered a laugh.

* * *

A scream woke the prisoners from their restless sleep, all eyes turning to the only female locked up. Morgana sobbed, a mirror to her past self as hysterics spun her into a terrified mess. Ayalon (he had replaced Leo on guard duty) watched the seer warily, hands resting on his hunting knives. Reyna, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as relaxed as her fellow, drawing the gladius at her hip to level it at the cell. Morgana was oblivious.

"Morgana?" Mordred's voice was treaded with worry.

"…I… I'm fine," the seer snapped when her hysterics had calmed. "Just a nightmare."

Merlin gained a sudden interest of the woman that was once his friend. "What was it about?"

"Never mind that!" Morgana sneered. "Your right to that answer ended with that poison you offered!"

Merlin flinched back as if struck, looking anywhere but Morgana.

"Merlin, what does she mean?" Arthur question held the command of the king. Merlin refused to look at him, choosing to remain silent.

"I should have known," Morgana sneered. "Did you forget to inform my dear brother the real reason why Morgause took me away all those years ago?"

"Morgana—"

"Did you _forget_ ," Morgana continued harshly, "to tell _your king_ about the hemlock you put in that water skin—the poison you _tricked me into drinking_!"

"I had no choice!" Merlin roared as he rose, eyes virtually glowing with his furry. Everyone flinched back, his friends astonished and frightened by the show of power so uncharacteristic and yet so fitting for their lanky friend. "Your _sister_ had made you the core of the spell putting everyone in Camelot to sleep. Did you notice that you were the _only one awake_ when Arthur and I returned to Camelot? That you were the only one not yawning by the time we finished disguising Uther? It was either you or Camelot, Morgana." Merlin fell back against the wall, all power and authority vanishing. "I'm sorry, Morgana. I'm sorry that it was I that drove you to this."

Morgana scoffed. "No 'sorry' can account for your betrayal."

Merlin sighed, a barely audible 'I know' coming before he turned his back on everyone.

Arthur frowned, eyes darting from his friend to his half-sister in thought and worry. Did Merlin truly believe that he was the one that had driven Morgana to betraying the kingdom? But that was the least of Arthur's worries. That power—that authority that Merlin had so blatantly displayed in his furry was eerily reminiscent to that of the Great Dragon that had nearly razed Camelot. It had shaken his understanding of the man—an understanding that had already been shaky to begin with! How much did Arthur truly know about his manservant?

The answer to that was enough to disturb the king greatly. Very little. Arthur knew that (and Arthur was actually a very keen observer, despite the common [Merlin's] belief) Merlin was a very secretive and downright selflessly loyal individual—that fact was actually why Arthur entrusted the man with so many secrets, because he knew that Merlin would take them to his grave if he needed to. However, it was also disconcerting that Arthur entrusted the man with so much, and yet he barely knew anything about Merlin!

Anger rose like fire in the king's veins.

Why didn't Merlin trust him? Was it fear that—

And a thought, an ugly, hated thought that made the king's blood _freeze,_ came to surface. Along with it brought recollection of their captor's words, disjointed and confusing.

" _I guess you've all met both."_

" _Kindness!"_

" _Loyalty!"_

" _Ambition!"_

" _Strength!"_

" _Courage!"_

" _Revenge!"_

" _Betrayal!"_

" _Magic_ _."_

And as he looked around the mossy dungeon, Arthur found that he could label each person with a name. That is to say, except one.

Magic.

Arthur recoiled from the thought, scrambling to find some kind of—any—excuse. Merlin couldn't be Magic! It was impossible!

But was it truly? That power that Merlin had displayed, that authuritated aura that he had radiated that was so dragon-like in nature… That moment that had shaken what he thought of the man… Arthur could have sworn that his manservant's eyes had flashed golden in the torchlight, and the room temperature had dropped several degrees. That roar had been so guttural and snarling in that moment. And both had been glossed over by his refusal to see—but that was a lie!

He returned to the names that the girl had called out, remembering the emphasis that she had placed on 'Magic'. She must have been referring to herself, at that moment, for she was a powerful enchantress. Yes, that must—

And another memory rose from the fog, back from when he was a price, about to become the Crown Prince. The quest for the Fisher King's trident. The little man on the bridge. Who had helped him in his quest. The man had called him Courage, the same name Astrid had used, and had said that Strength and _Magic_ would help him. He had been so tired at the time, so out of it that he had brushed off the man's words. So out of it that he had forgotten that only two men had aided him. Gwaine, who Arthur already knew was Strength, and Merlin.

Suddenly, Arthur became all to aware of the numerous 'miracles' that had occurred during the time he had known his manservant. Previously sturdy branches snapping to fall on only the opposing side, enemies dropping their sword mid-fight, fatal encounters that _he should have in all right have died_. And almost every instance had one thing in common. _Merlin_.

Why did Merlin have so many secrets?

 _Because Merlin has magic_.

* * *

 **A/N: So Arthur figures it out! I'm not counting this as the reveal (that'll come later) because Arthur is only speculating, and needs Merlin himself to confirm it. Yup.**

 **On the other side of things, Astrid's revealed that she has everyone to Gaius, and given him a lovely little riddle to solve! Each phrase is a location. Let me know if you think you've solved it in a review and send me a PM with the answers!**


End file.
